


Unbalanced

by noelleleithe



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noelleleithe/pseuds/noelleleithe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Mulder's first day back at work after his brain surgery, and Scully's wondering what, exactly, has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbalanced

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through "The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati"

FBI Headquarters  
November 8, 1999  
7:58 a.m.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness when Mulder stepped back into the office after nearly a month away. His forced recovery time over, he stood in the doorway and surveyed the basement with a strange mix of emotions playing across his face. Scully watched him, surreptitiously checking for any signs that he was coming back too soon. After all, he'd undergone brain surgery less than three weeks before, and he wasn't known for taking it easy.

But as she looked at him, she realized he looked alarmingly healthy. He was still too thin and a little pale, but his eyes were bright and calm, and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. She'd noticed that in the time she'd spent with him during his convalescence; even when he was deep in thought, a smile lurked around his mouth and in his eyes.

Maybe that's why he looked so good this morning, she thought. He lacked much of the dark demeanor he had never before been able to shake. He looked different somehow. More relaxed. Younger. Peaceful, she realized, still watching him.

He looked at her then, grinned that same boyish grin, and the spell was broken. She couldn't help returning his enthusiastic greeting, rising to her feet as he approached and not even feeling guilty as she hugged him.

To her surprise, a lump the size of a grapefruit rose up in her throat, and she had to swallow hard before she could speak. "Welcome home, Mulder," she said, smiling up at him as they released their embrace.

He chuckled, then shrugged. "I don't know; my apartment's actually pretty comfortable when I give it a chance," he said, his hands still resting at her waist. His gaze drifted across the filing cabinets and eclectic mix of paraphernalia filling the small room. "This is a great place to visit, but I don't think I'd want to live here."

She was startled, to say the least. Despite the obvious changes in him, prompted either by the surgery or his own internal journeys, she didn't know quite what to make of what seemed to be a lessened interest in the X-files. These files had been his life for nearly a decade; what could possibly have changed enough for them to slide in importance?

She didn't get a chance to ask. Mulder had already pulled away, running one hand up her arm before moving behind his desk. He glanced at the mess of papers, grimaced, and immediately went to work on straightening the desktop.

Once again, Scully found herself watching him with curious fascination. Part of her wanted to just look at him, reassure herself that he was healthy and sane and back at work where he belonged. But another part of her was dying to interrogate him, to find out exactly what about him had changed and what had stayed the same. For the first time in years, she wasn't sure she knew what was motivating him, and she found it scared her.

Ten days before, in yet another heartfelt conversation outside Mulder's apartment, she had told Mulder that he was her constant, just as she was his. No matter what else happened in her life, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could count on him to do whatever he could to help. He might not always do the right thing, but she knew he would always make every effort to do and be what she needed him to be.

So when that constant changed, when she sensed such a fundamental difference in him, it unbalanced her. She still believed he would do anything for her, just as she would do for him. She didn't doubt he loved her, and she knew she loved him. But she was at a loss at how, exactly, she should approach this new incarnation of Mulder. She could deal with cranky Mulder, angry Mulder, cynical Mulder, upset Mulder, injured Mulder, even lecherous Mulder.

She just wasn't quite sure what to do with happy Mulder.

Mulder evidently sensed her eyes on him, because he glanced up from his meticulous paper-sorting, his face quizzical. "Did you need me for something, Scully?" he asked.

Scully bit back the first reply that came to mind, and instead forced a smile and said, "No, sorry. I guess I'm just glad you're back."

He grinned again. "Not half as glad as I am to be back," he said. He glanced dubiously at the pile of files and papers in his inbox. "I don't suppose we have a case?" he asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Scully’s smile relaxed in her relief. Maybe he *hadn’t* changed that much, she thought.

"Nope," she answered him, settling back down in her chair and turning to her computer. "Skinner wants to see us at ten, but until then, you're welcome to dig through the mail and see if anything's turned up."

"Gee, thanks," came the sarcastic reply. "Just what I wanted to do, Scully -- wade through paperwork."

Scully chuckled. "You know the deal, Mulder," she said. "Desk duty for the first couple days, at least. So don't pick out something we have to run off and do today."

She heard him sigh dramatically and smiled again as she started typing.

The quiet lasted a full half-hour before Mulder piped up. "Hey, Scully, listen to this," he said. "A woman in Wyoming says she saw her daughter talking to the air a couple times last month, and the girl insisted she was talking to a ghost. The woman didn't believe her, of course, until she saw the ghost herself. It's an older woman, she says, and she says the lady ..."

Scully half-listened, nodding in appropriate places, interjecting just the objections she knew Mulder would expect. But only half her mind was concentrating on the "case." The rest of her energy was spent on absorbing Mulder, on watching him, hearing the sound of his voice and feeling his presence.

She felt herself slipping into a state of melancholy that had plagued her off and on since Mulder's disappearance. She'd felt so useless while he was sick and then missing. She’d done nothing to help him, nothing to bring him back or even find answers for him. All her efforts had fallen to nothing; only a final act of kindness from an enemy had brought him back to her at all.

For almost as long as she could remember, she'd teetered on a thin edge between joy and hopelessness, with only her belief in Mulder and his apparent confidence her, and in them together, to keep her upright. She'd felt much more secure since their reconciliation after El Rico; they'd made such progress in their relationship. They’d found a balance between professionalism and deep friendship, even learning how to have fun with each other without feeling awkward about it.

Now, though, despite the familiar flow of words coming from his mouth as he read the case file, he was so obviously *different*. There was a light in his eyes that wasn't there before, and she was completely unable to make sense of it. She was unsure of his focus, unsure if there still was a "them" at all, and she couldn't bring herself to ask, fearful of the answers she'd receive.

Her foundation had shifted without warning or explanation, and she was left teetering on the brink, barely able to keep herself from falling over into the abyss.

"Scully?"

Mulder's voice was low and laced with concern, and as her eyes slowly focused on him, she could see confusion and worry etched across his face. Such a handsome face, she mused; nothing traditional or classic, but so uniquely Mulder, like everything else about him.

Traditional. Classic. The things of a normal life; things they'd forgone for the sake of their work. Things Mulder still thought she wanted and needed, she realized, when the truth was that she couldn't care less, as long as she had him.

But did she have him?

She wasn't so sure any more.

"Scully?"

His voice was closer this time, and Scully realized her eyes had drifted half-shut. She pulled them open and turned her head slowly in his direction; he'd emerged from behind his desk and was just reaching her side, squatting down carefully to bring his face to her level.

"Scully," he repeated in that same soft, silk-over-sandpaper voice. "Are you all right?"

Silence held her as she looked at him, her gaze roaming over his skin from hairline to collar and back again, finally settling on his mouth. Her hand moved from her lap, traveling up through the suddenly heavy air, and before she knew it, her fingers were resting lightly on the fullness of his lips.

She raised her eyes as if drawn by magnetic force and met his steady gaze. She felt no embarrassment at her actions, and as soon as she looked into his eyes, her worries about her status in the life of a changed Mulder fled. The answers to all her questions were written in the forest-deep green of his eyes.

Soon, he promised her silently, his thoughts so clear to her that she could almost hear him saying the words. Whatever else changes in my life, the way I feel about you won't. But it isn't our time yet, so let's just enjoy the anticipation.

His unspoken words lodged deep in her heart, radiating warmth throughout her body. I promise, she pledged to him in her mind, hoping her words would reach his own heart. I promise to trust you, and to treasure what we are, and to look forward to what we will be. His eyes darkened, and he nodded almost imperceptibly, and she knew her message had been received.

She drew her hand away slowly, dragging her skin across his, leaving her fingerprints as her claim on him. His hand lifted to catch hers, their fingers twining together on instinct.

His lips parted into a slow smile that gradually spread across his whole face, crinkling his skin and lighting his eyes. She could no more resist than she could give up breathing, and she felt her own face reshaping itself to match his.

"So, Scully," he said, his voice back to normal. "It's a quarter to ten. What say we shock the hell out of Skinner and show up early?"

She smiled and stood, solid and sure on her feet for the first time in weeks. When she spoke, her voice was as light at her newly-unburdened heart.

"Lead the way, partner."

**Author's Note:**

> I know several people beta read at various times, but I somehow failed to note who and thus am unable to thank them. I hope they'll forgive me. :)
> 
> This story is (c) Copyright 2002 by Noelle Leithe. "The X-Files" universe, and all related characters and plot elements, are the property of FOX Broadcasting and 1013 Productions and are borrowed here without profit or intent for profit.


End file.
